Three more days have passed. In three more weeks, the royal army would fully gather in Erstain.
In Oakdale, a priest was walking down the street.
On a market square, a herald was telling about the Burial Tax, which would go into effect starting today. He was so pale-faced that he could be taken for a zombie, just like the ones that guarded him.
Only a small group of people was actually listening.
The priest walked as far away from the guards as he could and hurried to the city's slums. He tried to keep closer to the shadows and was constantly looking over his shoulder, but nobody was watching him.
The city's inhabitants were either hiding in their houses or trying to avoid the undead as much as the priest.
Things changed when the priest reached the slums. Its inhabitants: haulers and construction workers, tanners and butchers, immigrants, beggars and thieves, were much bolder.
